The Quiet Storm
by Castalle
Summary: The Decepticons have won the war.   Movieverse AU


**Title**: The Quiet Storm  
><strong>Rating<strong>: T  
><strong>Universe<strong>: Movie  
><strong>Pairing<strong>: Vague various pairings  
><strong>Word Count<strong>: 2,295

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers or anything affiliated.

This is an AU where basically the Cons win, but I kept a few things the same.

* * *

><p>Soundwave observed the skies, Cybertron now filling the blue span from one horizon to the other. The city had a coat of thick silence laying over it. The corpses of their Autobot captives were being hauled away by towing vessels that had landed with the newly arrived second wave. The largest of the bodies, in faded red and blue, was the last to be dragged away. Soundwave noted Megatron watching them tow Prime's body, an impassive, empty expression on their leader's face.<p>

Megatron had never been the same since his cranial wound, and Soundwave hoped that with more Decepticon forces spreading and a base of operations being established, better medical care could be provided. Megatron had been suffering that wound and the tiny cyber-maggots that came with it. None of the initial earth squad were medics, none of them could help. The only thing that seemed to improve Megatron's mood was the presence of the hatchlings he had taken to care for in the African camp.

"Megatron – how should we proceed?" Soundwave asked, approaching his lord's side, but keeping a respectful distance.

The wounded Decepticon pulled the cowl closer, covering his wound. He let out a hiss of air before turning to face Soundwave. "Contact our forces in deep space, tell them to begin their arrival. Send out a beacon, Cybertron is saved, our home will survive. Relay all coordinates and information, but tell them to be cautious. These insects are not yet defeated – we must proceed slowly, for now. Inform Thundercracker that he is the new Air Commander."

"As you command, Megatron." Soundwave said, bowing his head and backing away. Megatron turned to leave, but then halted and spoke again to his officer.

"Send a platoon to our base across the ocean. I want my hatchlings here, with me, where they can be better cared for."

"Understood, Megatron."

The Decepticon leader transformed, rolling away through the recently cleared city streets. Soundwave turned away and sent the orders in quick packs of data out to the satellites he had taken over some years ago. The signals were bounced off and sent shooting through space, racing to their targets across the cosmos.

* * *

><p>Walking through the city as the Decepticons recovered from the Autobot attack, Soundwave observed the other invasion leaders. Shockwave was ordering repairs on his Driller, his presence alone making the repair teams work twice as fast. The benefit of being Cybertronian, in any shape or form, was the ability for repairs. The smaller ones had it easier, Frenzy had lived without a body for some time – Barricade had gladly boasted about it.<p>

Speaking of Barricade, the black and white Decepticon was currently slapping a protoform that had performed in a substandard fashion in battle. He barked in Cybertronian at it, and the protoform skittered off to perform it's given duties. As Soundwave passed, Barricade fell in to a stiff salute, then continued back to his shouting. The soldiers would grow to either respect or hate him, but either way, they all feared him - and that was what counted.

Soundwave continued on, and noted the corpses of his Decepticon comrades lain out on the street, one particularly large body taking up space. Starscream was dead, head blown off by something or other. It didn't matter how a Decepticon died, as long as they died with honor. And battle was the highest honor one could participate in. It made Soundwave twist his mandibles in distaste knowing that the prostrating coward would be given the same honors as others who had died bravely like Bonecrusher or Brawl. But the dead were dead, and Soundwave would not speak ill of him any further – no matter how much distaste he had for him personally.

The other corpses were mostly blank protoforms that had landed with the first wave, most killed by the Autobots, some by the insects. Soundwave was preparing to turn away when he noticed one of the smallest corpses in the edge of his optic range. He approached Laserbeak, kneeling down to inspect the decapitated body of his small partner. The spark chamber was still intact, if repairs were done quickly enough he could be salvaged.

Soundwave sent out an urgent call to Barricade, calling for a medic team. Barricade quickly relayed the orders, and two battle medics quickly came running from their work on a moderately wounded Decepticon to Soundwave's side. He pointed at Laserbeak, and the two knelt down to inspect if he was reparable.

"Designation Breakdown." The larger of the two stated, turning to Soundwave, "Officer Laserbeak is reparable if immediate action is taken. We will transport him to Carrier Blitzwing for medical attention."

"Satisfactory." Soundwave said, and the smaller medic picked up Laserbeak carefully, before rushing to hail a towing vessel to bring them to the desired Carrier. Breakdown followed, beginning initial scans with a medical device as they boarded their transport. Usually, the Decepticon norm was to only repair those that could be saved with minimal effort, and let the rest meet death. It was something that had been picked up in the middle years of the war, when resources were scarce and medics were scarcer.

However, Soundwave was legendary to the Decepticon cause, as was Laserbeak – there were always exceptions once the towers of rank had been climbed. The rest of them though, who were nameless and voiceless, had not earned that flexibility yet. Very few ever did.

Soundwave was comforted by this allowance for Laserbeak. He had already lost Ravage to that yellow Autobot, and he had repaid the favor in full. Although it wasn't spoken of, and seemed to be an impossible thought to their enemies, Decepticons were capable of caring for other beings. Namely, and in singularity, their own kind. What else did they have – the Autobots may have come from Cybertron, but they were not 'their kind'. Not after refusing to give up and allowing their home to be destroyed. The Autobots refused to submit, and the only true home they knew suffered for it. The Decepticons had cared about Cybertron, among other things.

Blackout had cared for Skorponok, even though the drone was far from the capacity for higher intelligence. Barricade had kept Frenzy close, the smaller Decepticon constantly occupying the other's protective hull, or skittering over his shoulders and around his feet. Soundwave perhaps was unintentionally the most obvious example, he had an entire menagerie. Ravage had been his first, and was his favorite until his violent demise by Bumblebee's hands. Now that spot was occupied by Laserbeak, for whom Soundwave was grateful repairs were being given to. Things were moving on as planned, and hopefully, progress wouldn't be deterred by any more inconvenient distractions.

The intelligence officer noticed Sentinel Prime checking the status of the Control Pillar, a diagnostic pad hidden under a chest plate pulled out and in his palm now. Soundwave would never admit this, even to Megatron, but he respected Sentinel – as much as he could respect an Autobot. Sentinel was the voice of reason and progress; he was willing to abandon the war to save their home, to save Cybertron. Soundwave would never trust him, no 'Con in their right mind would trust a Bot, but for now – he deserved courtesy.

Sentinel finished his diagnostic and turned as Soundwave approached.

"Officer Soundwave." He greeted, respectful even in the face of a former enemy. "The diagnostics are complete, and the Space Bridge is operating at maximum power. Inform Megatron that he can begin sending in larger contingencies of troops and ships."

"Affirmative."

Sentinel put the diagnostic pad back into his side, gears and plates shifting to allow it in, then closing shut once it was folded neatly inside. The red Autobot looked over at Soundwave as he picked up his sword.

"Do you know who reactivated the Control Pillar?"

"Negative."

"Very well, I was mildly curious. Carry on."

Soundwave watched him leave, wing-like reliefs hanging from his shoulders moving stiffly as he rounded a building to consult with the recently arrived science officers. However long Megatron would tolerate the Autobot was how long Soundwave would. He was useful for now, but Soundwave assumed that Sentinel would probably make his escape when he knew his usefulness had come to an end. Then what would he be? A free agent – a rogue Autobot that had no home to go back to, not even the one he had sacrificed so much to save?

That was the price he had chosen to pay then, Soundwave acknowledged as he turned to examine the Control Pillar. Sentinel's name would be forgotten in the annals of Decepticon history, and cursed by whatever Autobots remained. A small blip on his radar made him draw his gaze downwards to the base of the ruins where the Control Pillar floated above.

He had been wondering where his little human agent had gone to. Soundwave knelt down, scanning Dylan's body before nudging him gently with a sharp talon-like finger. The liaison's jacket in the back had been burnt away, revealing a shirt that was also singed terribly. Soundwave caught a glimpse of the skin underneath, blackened in large patches and sloughing off. He nudged Dylan again before running a more thorough scan and cross referencing it with anatomical data he quickly brought up from his databanks. He let out a stream of air in disappointment then, at the results that displayed on his screen.

Soundwave picked up the small body in one hand, turning him over so he was lying on his charred back. Dylan was pale, his dead eyes staring outwards in to a space above Soundwave's head, lips parted just slightly. Soundwave had forgotten how fragile he was, the human had walked so proudly around the colossal Cybertronians that it had been an omitted reminder. The Decepticon carefully lifted a small arm, watching as it fell back down against his palm limply.

Morality was a span of ocean, some parts shallow and barely visible, others deep and seemingly endless. This small insect's life was tragically short; their entire species was born in violence and blood – and met their end with equal disappointing simplicity. The very thought made Soundwave's energon pumps churn in disgust. Dylan had been an exotic pet, one that was both scared and eager to serve him. The liaison had favored Soundwave because of their long history, and Soundwave had realized long ago that Dylan was a reliable agent. Reliability brought on by both fear and awe, but mixed with a rare degree of trust. The promise of survival was all Dylan had needed and through his fear he had found a way survive.

Soundwave lifted his clawed hands to very carefully pull the lapels of Dylan's jacket back to a neat position. The human had always been so tidy about his appearance; Soundwave figured the last respect he could give the liaison would be to look dignified in death. Dylan Gould would receive no burial, no compensation for his sacrifice for the Decepticon cause. He had saved Cybertron – no doubt another Decepticon could have easily done it – but he had abandoned his world for the sake of another's. The humans would hate and revile him if they ever found out, and the Decepticons would forget him. But, no, Soundwave would not forget – nor would he remember too eagerly. The insect, no matter how hard he had struggled, was still just one of thousands of lesser species. He was not a Decepticon, he was not a proper soldier, he was just a human, undeserving of any respect or worthy attention in Cybertronian eyes.

Soundwave held Dylan for a few more moments; humans preferred their eyes to be closed in death – but Soundwave knew that if he tried to close the tiny eyelids, his fingers would no doubt mutilate the former liaison's face. Soundwave could do nothing more for him, except keep a small reminder in his databanks amongst other miscellaneous files he kept out of benign interest. His optics snapped a stilled frame of the human's body, resting dead in his hand. He sent the file back in to his archives, filing it among pictures of exotic alien worlds and cosmic anomalies he had collected from years of travel.

Carefully he set Dylan down underneath the roof of a building where one of the walls had been blown out. Soundwave cast one last glance at the dead human, tiny body so still and useless now. It was a shame. The intelligence officer turned away, walking down the avenue he had approached from. One small life meant nothing in the grand scheme; that was simply the way of things. Soundwave would hold the memory in his databanks, just a snapshot – but that was all that such a small life deserved compared to the gods that now traversed this world.

* * *

><p>I'm actually going to continue this story, so - keep reading if you're interested. Reviews are always nice too<p> 


End file.
